


Blah, Blah, Woof, Woof

by velvetjinx



Series: Candids 'verse [5]
Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 15:33:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetjinx/pseuds/velvetjinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 5: Dogjaw</p>
<p>So the auditions of season 5 have Ryan making some really snide remarks about Simon (e.g.: "Any time Simon sees a wedding dress you have lost him" and: Old lady: "You wanna help me [bruise him]?" Ryan: "God, you don't know how badly.").</p>
<p>So.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blah, Blah, Woof, Woof

Ryan couldn’t stop giggling to himself. Hollywood week usually kicked his ass – it was a horrifically busy AI week on top of all his other jobs, and tensions ran so high with the contestants that he couldn’t help but be affected by the atmosphere. There were some sweethearts who were helping just by being there, though – he knew he wasn’t supposed to have favorites, but Kat McPhee was possibly the sweetest, wackiest girl he’d ever met, and they had become friends almost instantly. 

The only thing that usually got him through Hollywood Week without a nervous breakdown, though, was no longer a possibility. As far as Ryan was concerned, nothing beat the stress of that week like a lot of utterly filthy sex with Simon – except, of course, this year….

This year, he and Simon were barely speaking outside of the show. They were managing a kind of easy camaraderie while the cameras were on, but away from the auditions Ryan wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Simon so emotionless. Which was exactly what he’d accused Simon of the night he’d ended things – had done so with a very precise knowledge of what he was doing, because he knew the accusation would sting. He had regretted it, of course, but he had reached the end of a very long tether, and he just couldn’t let Simon dick him about any longer.

So he’d chosen to end it, but first he wanted to see if Simon was willing to give an inch to save whatever it was that they’d had. But Simon hadn’t given anything; had instead said things that had cut Ryan to the quick. And so he had lashed out, wanting to hurt Simon as badly as he had been hurt, and the look in Simon’s eyes as he’d left had been proof enough of that to make triumph burn bright in his chest for a moment, before it had all come crashing down.

Ryan, though, had always been a believer in taking comfort where he found and, despite the bitter satisfaction of knowing that Simon was suffering almost as much as he was, it was little things that were keeping him from falling apart.

Little things like what had just happened when he had been trying to get an interview with one of the contestants. Mandisa was a sweet girl, with an amazing sense of humor and a laugh that would brighten anyone’s day. She had been pressing her jaw, looking as though she was in pain, and when Ryan had asked her what was wrong, she had scrunched up her face.

“I’ve got dogjaw,” she said, prodding at the right side of her jaw.

“What?” he’d asked, confused. “You have… _dogjaw_?”

“Feel it right here,” she nodded, and as he’d reached out his hand towards her face, she had _barked_ at him. He’d jumped back in shock, clutching his hand to his chest. A moment later he’d started laughing along with her, protesting that he’d _never_ fallen for anything like that before, _ever_. Of course, as soon as he got over the palpitations, he _had_ to see her do it to someone else, so he’d stopped a random runner as they went by, coffee in hand.

“She has dogjaw too – feel it!” he’d said, only just managing to contain his glee. When she barked at him, the runner had jumped about a foot in the air, cussing and spilling his coffee everywhere. Ryan – who had flinched reflexively, but not enough to be embarrassing – was immediately convinced that this was the best trick _ever_. Once he had stopped laughing and had finished with the main interviews for the day, he had gone hunting for a victim.

As he rounded a corner into an abandoned area of the theatre, he spotted Simon, lighter in hand, obviously coming back from a cigarette break. Unable to resist getting one over on the mighty Cowell – and maybe breaking some of the tension in the process – Ryan practically skipped up to his ex-lover.

“Hey, Simon,” he began, aiming for ‘woeful’, but pretty sure he’d hit closer to ‘insanely chipper’. 

Simon sighed, shooting Ryan a level look. “What do you want, Ryan?”

He looked exhausted, Ryan thought – like he hadn’t slept in days. Ryan, though, was a firm believer that a good laugh helped _enormously_ with things like that, and smothered a grin. He schooled his face into a bemused, slightly pained expression, and prodded at his jaw.

“Nothing, I just… God, I think I might have dogjaw?”

There was a moment of silence as Simon stared at him. “I’m sorry, what? Dogjaw?”

Ryan nodded, desperately trying not to let his lips twitch. “Yeah. You can feel, right here.” He tilted his cheek towards Simon and looked at him expectantly. After a few moments, his expression a mix between disbelieving and trepidation, Simon reached up his hand towards Ryan’s jaw. Ryan watched it carefully, waiting for the right moment.

“YIP!” he barked, snapping lightly with his teeth at Simon’s finger. But he had misjudged the distance – instead of his teeth closing mere inches from Simon’s finger, they closed _on_ it, trapping the digit in his mouth. Simon jumped in surprise, his eyes wide, but they darkened quickly as Ryan’s shock-frozen muscles refused to release him. Giving himself a mental shake, Ryan opened his mouth, freeing Simon. Their eyes locked for a long moment, then....

“Ow,” Simon said, his tone eloquent, as he looked down at his finger. Ryan followed his gaze, realizing that the red marks around the first knuckle were the fading indentations of his teeth.

“That, um,” Ryan began, before clearing his throat. “That didn’t work quite how it was supposed to.”

“No, I imagine it didn’t’,” Simon snarked, frowning. “And now my finger hurts.” There was a challenge in his eyes, and Ryan didn’t understand exactly why the look – a look that he hadn’t seen since May – gave him such feelings of longing that he couldn’t make himself remember in that moment why he had ended things in the first place. Swallowing, he reached out towards Simon.

“I know how to make it better,” he murmured, voice hoarse.

Simon’s eyebrow went up. “Do you.”

Ryan nodded and, when he saw no sign that Simon wanted him to back off, he took hold of Simon’s hand and brought the injured finger up to his lips. Slowly, his eyes never leaving Simon’s, he kissed along the marked skin, before sucking the tip gently into his mouth. Simon’s only response was a huff of breath, which Ryan chose to take as assent. 

He licked carefully at the pad of Simon’s finger, before releasing it with a wet pop.

“Better?” he asked, voice completely fucked out.

Simon looked at him for a long moment, but Ryan could see the beginnings of a smile forming around his mouth.

“You know, I think it’s starting to be,” Simon said, and when he smiled, Ryan realized it just might be.


End file.
